Chapter 12
“Where is he going to take you?” Arielle asked, sitting on Thea’s bed in her apartment. She held Salty in her lap as she pet her.
Thea shrugged. The whole thing seemed crazy, but she was going on a date with Ryan Mathers, who she had kissed all day long. Throughout the day, as she taught everyone how to stand on their surfboard, Ryan would sneak kisses—behind her ear, on the back of her neck, the inside of her wrist.
She lightly touched her lips with her fingertips, which were a bit sore from Ryan’s day-old beard. She felt like a boy crazy girl again as she went through each item of clothing hanging in her closet.
“That one.” Arielle pointed to a light blue floral dress that flowed around her ankles every time she took a step. She’d loved it when she’d first bought it, but then Johnny had made a comment about how it made her look like a hippie, which, by his tone, had seemed like a bad thing.
“I think you’re right.” She pulled it off the hanger and jumped in the bathroom.
“Wear it with your white tank top.” Arielle handed the top over to her through the bathroom door.
“Do you think you’ll invite him as your plus-one to the wedding?” Arielle asked.
Thea hadn’t thought about taking Ryan as her date for Sophia and Patrick’s wedding. She left the bathroom and turned to Arielle, not forgetting her promise to her niece, who didn’t want to show up to the wedding alone. “You’re my plus-one.”
Arielle smiled at that and helped her with the rest of her outfit. After a shower, she did her hair and makeup, changed three times just to end up wearing the blue dress, and cleaned up the apartment in panic mode as her niece and kitties watched on.
“I won’t stay up,” Thea’s niece whispered as Ryan climbed up the back staircase to the apartment’s main door.
Thea rolled her eyes because she had no intention of making her niece wait up for her, even if she was with Ryan Mathers on a date.
He stood on the back porch in a sports coat, clean-shaven.
He looked even better than the Sports’ Magazine’s top twenty Most Handsome Athlete photograph she’d seen on the internet.
“Pinch me,” she said to her niece as she reached the front door. She took in a deep breath and opened the door. “Ryan, please come in.”
Ryan handed over a bouquet of flowers; the arrangement was of wildflowers but looked professionally placed together with a gorgeous satin bow. The tag had the logo of an expensive florist from off the island. “They’re beautiful.”
Arielle walked over and greeted Ryan.
“Hi, Mr. Mathers.” She waved nervously. “Let me take them for you, Auntie.”
“That would be fantastic.” Thea handed over the bouquet to Arielle, who knew what to do immediately.
They stood awkwardly as Thea realized the tiny size of her one-bedroom apartment.
“You ready?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
She bit her bottom lip as he held her hand, which was swallowed up by his mammoth one.
Arielle carried the flowers in a vase from the kitchen as they opened the door to leave, and said, “Oh, and she needs a date for a wedding this Saturday.”
“Arielle!” Thea scolded her niece, feeling completely embarrassed at her audacity to ask him that. “You don’t have to agree to that. I wasn’t planning on taking anyone.” She shot a look at Arielle, whose back was now turned to her. “I was planning on being my niece’s date.”
He kept her hand in his. “I do love a wedding.”
She wondered if the football player had been married.
Not too many people make it through their twenties unmarried, but even less by their late thirties.
By the time she had turned thirty, her mother had considered her a dinosaur who had ruined her chances at happiness by not legally binding herself to a man. Thea had never been in a rush.
And now, looking back over the past two and a half decades of dating, she still wasn’t in a rush to be married.
Yes, she liked the idea of love, but she didn’t need to be married. She may have a tiny apartment, and her children may have four legs and poop in a box, but she didn’t need a man to feel fulfilled.
She wanted a partner. Someone who enjoyed spending time with her.
She wanted someone who wanted to be with her, even when they were apart.
Someone who would do anything for her because they cared about her.
Someone who’d go out of their way just to make her happy.
Someone who respected her. Someone who loved her. That’s what she wanted.
Could Ryan be that kind of man?
She dragged him away from the door and down the back steps. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You’ll see,” he said.
As soon as they made their way down to the street, they were greeted by a man opening the back door to a black SUV with tinted windows.
“Ms. Manus,” the man said.
“Thanks, Daniel,” Ryan said to the man, who shut the door as soon as they got in.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Just around the island.” As he spoke, she could see his lip lift slightly in a smirk. They drove down toward the harbor but past the ferry port and down a private dirt road. That’s when she saw the familiar roofline of Mrs. Rosedale’s old white cape that sat at the end of the road.
“Lobster Cove Lane,” she said, realizing exactly where they were headed.
Thea used to walk the dirt road to escape from the boredom of the restaurant when she was a little girl. It was just close enough she could walk, but far enough her parents wouldn’t find her. She’d carry her board and sneak onto the Rosedale’s property.
“There’s an adorable little place at the end of the road.” She loved the way the unassuming house sat high on the bluffs overlooking the whole harbor and the city of Portland beyond. One could see the complete juxtaposition of the endless Atlantic Ocean and the modern city of Portland.
The SUV pulled into a long driveway leading to a white tent.
She gave him a look. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re chartering a boat around the island,” he said, getting out as soon as Daniel opened the passenger’s door. Ryan got out of the car, held out his hand, and then held hers all the way down to a man he greeted as Joel, who led them down a path to a yacht named Adiamo. “Hope you like lobster.”
Daniel pulled out a white canvas bag with a red lobster embroidered on the front.
She peeked inside to see a fuzzy blanket with an equally fuzzy sweater.
No doubt preparing for the breezy, cool air on the Atlantic, even if it was July.
A bottle of wine with crackers and cheese, fancy jars of jam and oiled olives, and dark chocolate on top of strawberries paired with salty nuts.
“You thought of everything,” she said, as he walked her around the back of the boat, where a long couch faced out to sea.
They both took a seat as a woman approached them.
“Is there something I can get you before we get going?” she asked.
“I’d love a water.” Her mouth felt like cotton because of her nerves.
“I’ll take one as well,” Ryan said.
“My name is Tracy,” she said as she poured both waters. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.”
“Great, thank you,” Ryan said, taking one of the chocolate-covered strawberries and popping it into his mouth.
The engine rumbled underneath them as the Downeast yacht pulled away from the dock and out into the harbor. The late afternoon sun dragged shadows across the coastline, the golden sun still fiery from the water.
“I’ve never been around the island before,” she said, realizing how strange that fact suddenly felt. She had lived her whole life on this island. “I’ve never been on a moving boat, besides the ferry.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised as well.
She almost said something about Johnny’s sailboat, but luckily she stopped herself before blurting out an unnecessary detail of her previous relationship. Why did her mind want to ruin such a lovely moment?
Had she been lazy by staying with Johnny?
Was that why she’d stuck with him all those years?
She’d thought dating him, someone who’d grown up on the island, who wanted to stay on the island, who understood running a small business on the island, would be a good choice.
But looking back, maybe she has just been unwilling to pay attention to what she really wanted, and had forced Johnny to play along.
No, she didn’t need to give him any kind of out.
And she also didn’t need to spend anymore time thinking about him. She was on a yacht with Ryan Mathers!
“Thank you,” she said as the boat started to leave the boat slip.
He sat there holding her hand, staring into her eyes. Her breath got lost in her chest as he continued to look at her.
“Do you ever feel like you’ve been here before?” he asked.
She didn’t think he meant literally, but she wasn’t sure if she understood. She tilted her head. “Like something feels familiar?”
“Yes,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “This feels familiar.”
He leaned over and kissed her, soft and short, but left her knees weak, and when he stopped, she could barely take in air. She placed her hand on her chest, closing her eyes, and reminded herself to breathe.
She was on a yacht with Ryan Mathers.
“Did you just pinch yourself?” he asked, as she squeezed her fingers tightly against one another.
She stopped and took hold of his arm. “I had to pinch myself to see if this was real.”
Instead of laughing along with her, Ryan frowned.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried she had said something wrong.
“I’m far from being Prince Charming,” he said. “I have my own skeletons in the closet, but I promise you,”—he locked eyes with her—“this is real to me.”
Ryan showed complete vulnerability, which had to have been the sexiest thing she had experienced in her life. Thank goodness her mother had taught her to be a lady, because she might have done something she’d regret.
She lifted her water to him. “To being real.”
Ryan lifted the left side of his mouth, making that sexy grin he gave at the end of his deodorant commercial. He was flashing his pearly whites at Thea Manus.
He clinked his glass against hers. “To being real.”